


The Moon is Rising

by ThisRoseHasAnotherName



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Teddy needs to be protected at all costs, Divorced Remus, F/M, No Smut, We're not into that, Werewolf Hermione, amen, they're all adults
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisRoseHasAnotherName/pseuds/ThisRoseHasAnotherName
Summary: During the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione is attacked by a werewolf. She spends the summer months at the Burrow and with Remus to help her cope with her new status as a werewolf. Remus is invited back to Hogwarts as the DADA professor, partially because he is the best DADA professor, and partly so he can be there for Hermione.





	1. The Final Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! Right, so this first chapter (and potentially more) is pretty intense. Battle scenes tend to be, amirite? Hermione is overage in this story; nothing romantic will start to happen for a while. I've decided on a slow burn. Also, the were "parts" of them don't exist as other people in their heads. To me, becoming a werewolf changes who you are and how you respond, and not putting another consciousness in your head. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!
> 
> **TW**: Blood, violence, discussion of death, and injury.

Hermione stumbled through the rubble of the fallen school as she followed her two best friends toward the Shrieking Shack, battle raging on all sides. They had to get there, they knew Nagini was with her master - and the only way to end this was to kill the snake. 

A jet of light passed right in front of her, and she barely had time to turn her head to avoid catching the curse to the side of the head. It skimmed her jaw, bringing tears to her eyes but she kept moving, eyes darting around. From the feel of it, it was a cutting curse and she breathed a sigh of stark relief that she managed to dodge most of it. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow lunged and she turned to face it, raising her wand in front of her. The shadow crashed into her, heaving them both towards the ground. 

Hermione felt her head crack back on the ground and a gush of something warm and wet. Through blurred vision, she could see glowing, golden eyes above her. Her heart froze. Before she could even scream, the werewolf was snarling and snapping, and she just managed to bring her arms up to protect her face. Strong jaws clamped down on one arm and a burning sensation filled her, spreading quickly. 

Through a fog, she thought she heard someone yell her name, but all sound besides her own screaming was cut off as the werewolf was hit - by what Hermione couldn’t see - and was knocked a ways down her body. Its claws raked down her chest and stomach, letting loose a heat that spread with every heartbeat. Its jaws snapped closed again, starting a fire like nothing she had ever felt on her side. 

A jet of blue light threw the creature off her and her two best friends came skidding to her side. 

“Hermione-!” Harry started.

“Merlin!” Ron called, reaching out and gripping her face between his hands. “Hermione-!”

“Go,” she cried. “You have to finish this, go! I’ll be alright.”

“Hermione, no, we can’t just leave-” Harry began.

“Hermione!” She vaguely recognized the voice that shouted her name, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Bill!” Ron called. “Help us!”

Another redhead slid to a stop beside her, crouching down next to her almost before he stopped. 

“Hi, Bill,” Hermione breathed. 

A pained chuckle slipped out of the Weasley’s oldest son as he surveyed the damage. 

“Hello, old girl. Wanted to match my pretty face, did you?” Bill asked, the scarring from Greyback glinting in the wand light. 

“Not quite,” she wheezed. “Harry, Ron, go.” They opened their mouths to protest. “No, listen to me!” she demanded, each exclamation coming with a sharper intake of breath.

“You need to do this now! Go! Bill will take care of me.”

“Hermione,” Harry cried. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s not your fault, Harry. But you need to go now and you know it! Please, end this. You know the way. Ron, help him. Please. GO!” 

“I love you, Hermione,” Harry called as he stood. 

“I love you both. Now, go!” The two boys turned and continued their desperate run towards the Shrieking Shack, disappearing into the chaos. 

“Hermione, I’m going to get you to the Great Hall, alright, old girl? You just hang tight to me and we’ll be there in a jiffy.” 

Black spots were floating in Hermione’s vision and her head felt like it was spinning, but even so, when Bill scooped her up - even as gentle as he was - Hermione let loose a strangled cry.

“I know it hurts, I know, but you have to stay awake. Can you do that for me, Hermione?” Bill asked as he steadily picked his way through the rubble. 

“Yes,” she moaned. She clung to the edge of consciousness, keeping a lookout for threats that Bill would be unable to fight with an armful of bloody girl. When a Death Eater stepped out in front of them, Hermione tiredly raised her wand arm and shot a weak "Stupify!". It connected with the man’s chest and he stumbled back, tripping over an unrecognizable body. His head hit the edge of a chunk of rock and his eyes glazed over, the light of life leaving them. 

Hermione didn’t have time to process the fact that she had just killed someone before Bill slipped, jostling her in his arms. The pain seared throughout her body and a sharp scream slipped out between her lips. She panted, biting her lip until it bled to stop anymore sound from escaping. 

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry, we’re almost there. Come on, old girl, stay awake. You can do it, Hermione,” Bill encouraged, seeing her eyes clenched shut. 

“I’m awake,” she panted. “It’s okay, Bill. I’m okay.” She wasn’t, but she didn’t want to focus on the amount of blood that was pooling onto Bill’s shirt, so she chose the next best option; compartmentalizing until she could properly deal with it. 

After two more close calls and almost becoming flat as paper from a boulder thrown by a giant, they reached the doors to the Great Hall which was steadily filling with bloodied and bruised witches and wizards, students and adults. In the light of the room, Hermione risked a glance down at her stomach but could see nothing but red.  
“Help!” Bill called, rushing into the room. “Help! I need you to stay awake for me, Hermione! Stay awake!” 

“Tired,” Hermione murmured. “Just let me close my eyes…” 

~

The darkness was disorienting, and Hermione wanted to leave, but she didn’t know how. She felt like she was swimming in it, but she couldn’t tell which way was up.  
“Hermione,” a soft voice sang. 

She like the sound of it, clear and feminine, so she decided to go in the direction of the voice.

“Hermione,” it sang again. “Wake up, Hermione. It’s time to wake up.”

~

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open, and then immediately slammed closed again. Wherever she was, the brightness hurt her eyes. 

“Hermione?” a hoarse voice called. “Are you awake?”

“Harry?” Hermione squinted her eyes to see her best friend sitting beside her bed, his black, curly hair falling into his eyes just so.

“It’s me, Hermione. We are at St. Mungo's. You’ve been here for two days.” She felt something squeeze her hand.

“Harry?” She asked. “Can you turn off the lights? My head hurts.”

“Of course, Hermione.” She heard his voice catch as he rose to do as she requested. 

When the lights flicked off, Hermione opened her eyes all the way in time to see Harry sit back down beside her.

“What happened?” 

A bittersweet smile crossed Harry’s face. “We won, Hermione. It’s over.”

Hermione exhaled a relieved breath and felt a tear slip out of the corner of her eye, heading straight for her temple. 

“Hey, now,” he murmured, gently wiping it away. “No tears.”

“Sorry,” she said with a wet laugh. As soon as she did, she winced.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, hands fluttering over her. 

“Don’t make me laugh,” she wheezed. “Hurts.”

“Sorry!” 

“It’s alright, Harry.” Hermione sighed and turned her face towards the ceiling. The silence stretched to a breaking point until she had to ask.

“Harry?”

“Yeah, Hermione?”

“Did I - Is it - Am I a werewolf now?” She couldn’t help the slight desperation that crept into her voice and she cleared her throat in an effort to be rid of it.

Harry was silent.

“Harry?”

“Yes. You are a werewolf now.” 

This time, Harry let her tears come and squeezed her hand to let her know he was there. What frustrated her the most was that she couldn’t even cry properly - if she did, the burning would intensify. 

When her tears slowed to a stop, Harry wiped them away again. 

“It’ll be okay, Hermione. We’re all here for you. Everyone’s been waiting to see you when you woke up.” Harry smoothed her hair back from her face.

“Harry...Who…” Hermione couldn’t finish.

“Who died?” When Hermione nodded, Harry cleared his throat. “Fred, Tonks, Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown, and Professor Snape among others.”

Harry’s use of Professor Snape’s title was not lost on Hermione. 

Hermione nodded again and felt a weight settle on her chest. She couldn’t cry right now; if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Do you want visitors?” Harry asked after a moment of painful silence.

“Please, I-I need to see Bill first.” Hermione knew her request confused him, but he didn’t question it. 

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” he said, kissing her forehead before leaving. 

Hermione sighed and let her thoughts drift.


	2. Hospital Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets visitors in the hopsital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

“Knock, knock,” Bill’s deep voice came from the doorway.

“Hey, Bill,” Hermione replied weakly.

“I heard you wanted to see me.” Bill stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He kissed her forehead just as Harry had done and gave her a little smile before sitting. 

“Yes, I-I just wanted to thank you. You saved my life and-” Hermione was cut off.

“You don’t need to thank me, Hermione. You have done more for my family than I will ever be able to repay you for. I should be thanking you.” A moment of silence stretched across the room.

“I’m sorry about Fred, Bill.” Hermione’s voice cracked over Fred’s name and she inhaled quickly, trying to stop the tears before they came.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Bill soothed, taking her hand lightly in his large one. “I’m sorry too.”

Hermione gained control of her breathing.

“Bill…”

“Yeah?”

“Did I...Did I kill that man?” Hermione squeezed his hand as she awaited his answer.

As the silence grew so did her alarm.

“I did, didn’t I? Oh my gods, I killed-” The memory of the light fading out of his eyes overtook her vision.

“Hermione, listen to me. You didn’t mean too; it was an accident. You are not to blame. You were protecting yourself and me, and I am grateful that you were even able to raise your wand, do you hear me? You are so brave, Hermione. So brave.” He squeezed her hand in his, drawing her attention to his face.

“I killed someone…” she whispered. Her other hand rose up to cover her eyes and she whimpered slightly at the searing pain that flowed through her arm as she moved it. She let it drop back down to the bed, instead squeezing her eyes shut.

“Don’t move, Hermione.” She heard Bill shuffle forward in his seat, leaning in closer to her. “I promise, it wasn’t your fault.”

Another knock sounded at the door and a healer in a white uniform stepped in, turning on the light as she went.

“Hello, Ms. Granger. My name is Healer Magtie. I’m here to check up on your wounds. Mr. Weasley, if you could please wait outside?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Bill replied. He stood and stooped over Hermione for a moment. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered before straightening and leaving the room with a slightly forced smile.

“Alright, Ms. Granger. I’m going to run a few diagnostic charms and check on how those bites are doing. After that I have a few potions for you to take.” Hermione nodded blandly as the healer ran her wand over her body. “Good, good. Alrighty, let’s check those bites, shall we?” 

Healer Magtie’s cheery attitude was irking Hermione. She didn’t feel happy or cheerful and even good. She felt herself alternating between what have I done and why did this happen, not to mention the fact that she was grieving her friend’s deaths. 

When Healer Magtie removed her bandages, Hermione stared determinedly at the ceiling. She was certain if she looked she would cry, and she really did not want to cry in front of this stranger. 

“These are healing quite nicely, Ms. Granger,” Healer Magtie said. She was quick to wrap them back up, and Hermione was quick to ignore the bite she felt when the bandages were tightened around her arm and torso. “If you could just take these for me, I will let you get back to your visitors.”

Healer Magtie held out two vials, one with a blue liquid and one with a deep red. Hermione tossed them back, scrunching her face at the taste. 

“Not pleasant, I know. But it does the trick.” The vials were quickly vanished as well as the healer who whisked herself out the door with a polite goodbye. 

When the door opened again, Hermione was startled by the number of people that filed in. It seemed the entire Weasley family, Harry, Remus, baby Teddy, Luna, and Neville had come to visit. 

Mrs. Weasley immediately bustled forward, hugging Hermione as well as she could while jostling her as little as possible.

“Oh, dear. We will have you right as rain in no time, now won’t we?” Hermione felt a flash of bitterness (how could she be right as rain ever again when she would turn into a bloodthirsty monster every month?), but one look at Remus and her bitterness faded. At least she would have help.

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said with a small smile. She finally glanced down at herself and saw her flimsy hospital gown. Her face immediately flushed. “Can someone help me sit up please?” 

Hermione tried to push herself up on her elbows but a flash of pain had her panting on her back, face redder than ever, and her tear-filled eyes on the ceiling. 

“I’ll help you, Hermione,” Harry said, stepping forward. Ron silently stepped up on her other side and together they propped her up with a stack of pillows behind her. 

“Thanks, guys,” she said quietly. 

“No problem, Hermione. Merlin knows how many times you’ve helped me.” Harry and Hermione shared a grimace, collectively remembering their trip to Godric’s Hollow and the days after. 

The sound of Teddy fussing broke them out of their reverie. Hermione looked to the baby boy and his father, who was rocking him gently, shushing him quietly. He glanced up and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry guys. He’s a little upset today.” Hermione quietly thought about Tonks and how much Teddy must miss her. 

She surprised herself by speaking. “Let me, please?” 

Everyone turned to look at her, seeing her holding her arms out for him.

“Oh, dear, don’t strain yourself-” Molly started.

“Please,” Hermione said, a hint of pleading in her voice. 

Remus handed the baby over as gently as he could. The pressure of the baby on her arms - one with a carving in it, and the other with a werewolf bite on it - was painful, but not extraordinarily so. She made a mental note to thank Healer Magtie for the potions. 

Hermione started gently rocking Teddy, rubbing a hand lightly on his back. His crying turned to sniffling and his sniffled turned to snoring in the capable arms of Hermione Granger. She smiled down at the baby, wondering what her babies would look like. The thought made her freeze - she’d never seriously considered kids before. Of course she wanted them, but she’d never just assumed that she’d have them.

She gently resumed her rocking, not noticing her tears until they fell on little Teddy’s blanket, darkening the fabric. When she felt a hand on her back, she quickly turned and attempted to wipe her tears away on her shoulders before looking up. 

Mrs. Weasley looked down on her with a sad, knowing smile. Her hand took to rubbing Hermione’s back as gently as Hermione rubbed Teddy’s, and she felt herself droop back.

“I think Hermione has had enough excitement for one day,” Mr. Weasley quietly told his children. 

The Weasley’s, Luna, Neville, and Harry all hugged her gently goodbye and swept out of the room with last minute well wishes. When all that was left in the room was Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Teddy, and herself, she spoke. 

“Thank you for coming. Sorry it was such a bust.” Hermione snuggled Teddy a little closer to her chest.

“You were perfect, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said gently, extracting her hand from Hermione’s back so she could lay back properly. “We will come back tomorrow in smaller groups, alright?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said sincerely, smiling tiredly.

“Of course, dear,” she said, and then she too was gone. 

When Remus reached for Teddy, her grip on the little lad tightened. 

“Just...Just a little longer, please, Remus?” Hermione asked, not looking up. She had tears in her eyes again and was thoroughly exasperated at herself. 

“Of course,” he replied, just as quietly as her. He dimmed the lights to a soft glow and saw the crease between Hermione’s eyebrows lessen. He sat down in the chair by the bed, leaning back to study the pair. He could see tears tracing lines down Hermione’s cheeks that she was valiantly trying to hide and he felt a pang in his chest. He could imagine the thoughts running through her head, none of them very pretty. 

“He’s so beautiful,” Hermione murmured thickly. She cleared her throat and turned her face away, discreetly wiping away tears. 

“He got his mother’s nose,” Remus said.

Hermione exhaled a soft laugh and leaned her head back on her pillows. 

“When Dora and I got divorced, we...we wanted the best for Teddy. I’m not quite sure what the best is for him anymore,” Remus admitted.

“Teddy is a very special boy. He has family on all sides who love him and would do anything for him. The best doesn’t just have to be your best, Remus. The best thing for him is to have all of us here to love him and show him that we love him.” Remus pondered her words for a moment.

“When did you become so wise?” 

“Oh, you know, here and there. I’ve seen and done a few too many things not to have learned something.” Hermione’s arms tightened around Teddy again.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked quietly.

Another tear slipped into her hairline. 

“I killed someone, Remus.” Hermione sucked in an agonized breath and her face contorted in pain. “It was a death eater. He was coming towards us and I-I was hurt - Bill couldn’t do anything since he had to use both arms to carry me, so I shot a stunner at him. It was weak - I had lost a lot of blood at that point - and he tripped backward and hit his head. I saw him die. I killed him.” He saw Hermione work to control her breathing. “Bill said it wasn’t my fault, but I cast the spell that killed him.”

“Hermione,” Remus began, gut twisting painfully at the sight of the heartbroken young woman. “Your spell did not kill that death eater. You shot a non-lethal defensive spell towards an approaching threat. He tripped and hit his head - that is what killed him, not you. You are not to blame.”

She was quiet for a moment, one hand idly stroking his sons back. 

“Bill said something along those lines. I just don’t know...I don’t know if I can accept that right now.” He saw her eyes close and he spoke even softer.

“I will repeat them until you are ready to accept them, Hermione. You are such a good, brave person who has witnessed things most people can’t even imagine. You defended yourself and others, nothing more. You are not to blame,” he repeated gently. He saw tears glide down her face, though it had now lost some of its pained expression.

He stayed quiet, watching as she drifted off to sleep, her grip on Teddy never loosening. He was saddened by all the burdens she had to carry and wanted desperately to help her. He knew he was the only option to help her with her new werewolf status, and he was glad that he would be the one to do it. But he also wanted to help her with her other burdens as well; as one so young in a war so impactful, he knew she carried weights heavier than mountains.


	3. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Remus have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thanks for reading!
> 
> TW: Flashback, pain, talking about therapy

When Hermione’s eyes opened again, she felt a warm weight on her chest. Glancing down, she saw Teddy looking up at her with a curious expression, his little hand gripping a strand of her hair.

“Hello, little love. Did you sleep well?” Hermione smiled down at him as he gurgled in response.

“He’s a smart one,” a voice said softly.

Hermione tensed, her arms tightening around the bundle of baby in her arms. She gasped, the bite on her arm searing as she pressed it into Teddy’s back.

“Hermione?” Remus asked, clothes rustling as he stood.

“Ah,” she breathed. “Remus. You scared me.” She looked up at Remus who was looking down at her, a concerned expression etched on his features.

His face twisted into a grimace. “Sorry, Hermione.”

“It’s alright.” Hermione gave him a small smile which quickly turned to a grimace of her own as she shifted. “Please, Remus. Will you-”

Remus scooped his son into his arms as gently as possible, detangling his fist from her hair. Hermione breathed deeply through the pain in her arm, which caused a twinge on her side. She bit back a frustrated growl.

Teddy gave a little cry and Hermione turned her attention back to him.

“Shh, it’s alright, love. I just need to drink a potion and then you can come back, alright?”

Remus chuckled when his son’s cries lessened to a displeased sniffling. “He really is brilliant. I’ll go get the nurse, alright?”

Hermione gave him a tired smile. “Thanks, Remus.”

She breathed through the increasing burning in her side and arm until Remus came back with the nurse.

“Hello, Ms. Granger. What is your pain level at the moment?” Healer Magtie said, oddly cheerful.

Hermione grimaced. “A six?”

Remus gave her an incredulous look that she chose to ignore and Healer Magtie looked at her over the top of the clipboard in her hands.

“A six?” she asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied stubbornly. “I’ve felt worse.” A flash of Bellatrix standing over her while she writhed under the Cruciatus Curse overtook her vision. Her hands clenched the sheets in front of her to stop them from shaking. Her breath started coming faster - “Tell the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!” - and part of her was demanding she focus.

“Hermione!” Remus’s voice penetrated the sound of Bellatrix’s crazed cackles. She gave a jolt (not a wise decision, really), and grit her teeth when her side was set on fire.

“Ow,” she breathed.

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, concern sneaking into his tone.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Just a...brief lapse in my sense of time.”

“What?” Remus said after a pause.

“I think what Ms. Granger is trying to say is that she had a flashback, Mr. Lupin,” Healer Magtie interjected.

Hermione felt embarrassment well up in her and she looked down at her clenched hands. She knew it wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about, per se, but she felt...unworthy to feel so upset when others had it worse.

“Nothing to feel ashamed about, Ms. Granger,” Healer Magtie said matter-of-factly. “You are certainly not the only person to experience such things. I am required to offer you a chance to see a mind healer, if you would like.”

Hermione kept her gaze trained on her hands, fingers grazing the edge of her covers. “Yes, I-I think I should. I have a few friends who would be open to the idea as well if that can be arranged.” Hermione looked up at Healer Magtie suddenly. “We will all need to be 100% certain the things we say will be kept confidential under any and all circumstances.”

Healer Magtie gave her an encouraging smile. “Of course, Ms. Granger. Whatever you and your friends say will be kept under the strictest of raps, unless of course, you intend to do harm to yourself and others.”

Hermione glanced down ot the forearm with the werewolf bite before she could stop herself. “Of course,” she said quickly, looking firmly back at Healer Magtie. “I understand.”

“Well then, that is settled. I can give you a mild pain reliever, but it won’t be as full strength as the one you had before. Those can only be taken every four hours, and it has unfortunately only been two.”

Healer Magtie handed her a light orange liquid in another vial. Hermione tossed it back and was able to hide her grimace at the taste.

“Very good, Ms. Granger. I will come back in two hours unless you need anything. If you do, there is a button on the side of your bed, yes, that’s it. Good day, Mr. Lupin.”   
Healer Magtie left the room and Hermione was still adamantly refusing to look at Remus.

“Hermione,” Remus said slowly. “Please, look at me.”

Hermione raised her eyes, feeling strangely like she was going to cry. Her emotions were a little wild, and it seemed her body wanted her to cry all day.

Remus gave her a little smile, no hint of pity or embarrassment on his face. Hermione was relieved. “Please don’t feel embarrassed. I understand quite well how overwhelmed you must be feeling right now. I don’t know everything you’ve been through, but you have every right to be scared. The mind healer will help. I plan on seeing one as well.” Hermione’s eyes widened slightly. “I was seeing someone after the first war, but then I had Order missions and...other things. I have an appointment in two days, actually.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. She inwardly sighed at her own eloquence.

“Hermione,” Remus started. He shifted awkwardly when her gaze landed on him. “I want you to know that I am here for you, what with you being a werewolf and anything else you need. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, even if you think they might be embarrassing.” He gave her a small, encouraging smile.

Hermione felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Thanks, Remus. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Teddy started to fuss in Remus’s arms. “Guess someone is hungry,” Remus said with a faint smile as he gazed down at his son. “I will come back tomorrow, okay? If you need anything, let me know.” Remus studied her face as she tried to give a reassuring smile.

“Sure, Remus. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Her smile held up until the door closed behind the duo.

*

Running. She was running, and it was the best feeling she’d had in days - months, even. Running towards what, she didn’t know, or even if she was running from something. She just knew that the feel of her legs pounding into the forest floor, the air rushing in and out of her lungs. The sounds of the forest all around her was bliss.

She could go on forever, she just knew it.

Suddenly, she stumbled, tripping over a tree root covered with fallen leaves. A huff escaped her lips and she looked down at her feet to start untangling them. She stopped short at the sight. Where her feet should be, she had paws. Where smooth, lightly tanned skin used to be was light brown fur, speckled with white. She tried to say, “What?”, but all that escaped was a quiet bark that made her jerk in surprise.

What was happening? This was not her body -

Hermione woke with a twitch, floundering in confusion for a moment. Where was she? Her eyes flew open and was immediately both grateful and afraid for the lack of light. She glanced down at her body, relieved to see her normal human self, covered in bandages as she was. She was not ready for her first transformation, as quick as it was coming.

She remembered reading in the third year about how a person isn’t turned into a werewolf until after the first full transformation. That meant no wolfsbane until after the initial transformation, which, she’d also read, was the worst and most violent.

Hermione knew Remus was going to try and offer to be there with her, but she didn’t want him to be there until she was fully in control. Plus, if it was going to be the most violent and painful, she didn’t want him to witness it. She still remembered his screams from their third year, when he’d transformed right in front of them. It had hurt her to see him in so much pain, and losing control of himself on top of it.

And if she hurt him… she didn’t know how she’d react when she regained control.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny sat down in the chair Remus had abandoned the day before and placed folded hands on Hermione’s bed, leaning forward. Her eyes were red, and she was forcing a smile onto her face, but Hermione could tell she was hurting.
> 
> “C’mere,” she murmured.
> 
> Immediately, tears started to form on Ginny’s dark lashes, and the usually high spirited girl looked to her now clenched hands. 
> 
> “I’m meant to make you feel better,” Ginny tried to say lightly. “Not the other way around.”
> 
> “Oh, Gin,” Hermione sighed. “I’m okay. I will live.” Hermione wondered briefly if that was an insensitive comment. “You just lost a brother. Your parents lost a son. It’s okay to be sad around me. I understand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here we are - chapter 4.

Hermione reached up and rubbed her face to chase the sleep away, wincing when her hand brushed her jaw. She felt antsy. 

She’d spent too much time in this bed, and she needed to move. Her leg twitched of its own accord as the feeling the dream had left her with rushed through again. She fought to sit up, biting her lip against the muted fire that seemed to be radiating outward from the bites. She’d been tossing and turning the night before, trying to get comfortable when her skin felt like fire ants were crawling underneath. 

Maybe she’d ask Remus about it when he came today.

Hermione swung her feet over the side of the bed, cold sweat beading on her forehead and back. She paused a moment to suck in a deep breath, letting the oxygen fuel her muscles. Then, with a slow exhale, she lowered herself to the floor, bare feet flat on the chilled white tiles. 

And promptly fell to her knees.

She couldn’t help the pained cry that escaped when the fire in her legs doubled, the pain of her knees hitting the ground almost escaping her notice. Her palms landed next to support her, sending shockwaves vibrating up into her shoulder blades. 

The sheer dizziness of it made black sparkles dance across her vision, completely covering the white floor for a moment. 

Through her daze, she felt a hand on her shoulder and another reaching around on her waist to help sit her up.

She was gasping, she knew it, but couldn’t stop. This was like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was a different pain than any she’d ever experienced, like the bite had opened her senses to a new level of Hell. 

In her mind, the Cruciatus was still worse, but Hermione couldn’t help but feel that whatever this was was in a whole separate category. 

“It’ll be okay, dear, you’re perfectly safe,” Healer Magtie’s voice soothed. 

“H-” Hermione’s voice cracked, “Hurts.” Voice thick with tears, she reached out a grasping hand and found the front of Healer Magtie’s lime green robes. Her forehead tilted to rest on the soft woman’s shoulder. 

“I know, sweety, I know. It’ll be better soon, you’ll see.” Healer Magtie sounded quite congested as well.

Within the next few moments of deep, hiccoughing breathing, Hermione’s vision cleared and the fire subsided to a tolerable level. So much for not crying in front of her.

Healer Magtie was rubbing her back in soothing circles like her mother had done whenever she was sick. She missed her mother. 

Hermione picked her head up off the Healer’s shoulder, embarrassingly wiping away tears. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione admitted. “I should have listened to you.” She gave a weak chuckle. “I guess that was karma for trying to get out of bed before I got the okay, huh?”

“No, your body is mutating as we speak, changing your very DNA.” Healer Magtie had learned to give Hermione all the facts, instead of telling half-truths meant to comfort. “Your bones, muscles, tissue, everything is adapting to the new addition to your system. Your body is trying to reject the foreign substance, but it can’t. The fighting is causing the pain.”

Healer Magtie looked sternly at Hermione. 

“I heard you had a bit of trouble getting to sleep last night. Any itchiness or aching?”

Hermione nodded, worrying her lip. Was that not a good sign?

Healer Magtie smiled, relieving Hermione’s tension. 

“Good! That is a very good sign. It means your body will begin accepting the mutation soon.”

Hermione grimaced at the word mutation. 

“I thought it was supposed to take a week?”

“It can, sometimes. For others, it can take longer, or, like you, it can take days, even hours, in some rare cases.”

Hermione grimaced again, this time in sympathy pain. 

“Oh, dear,” she fretted. “I can’t imagine what they must go through.”

“I think you can,” Healer Magtie disagreed. “You are one of the few who can understand. The pain happens to every Lycanthrope, it’s just sped up for the few who contract it quickly.”

Hermione nodded.

“I guess.”

She felt drained after her little adventure to the floor. Healer Magtie seemed to realise, and backed up a few steps to set one of the high-strength pain potions on the counter.  
Hermione, so used to a year of only taking potions when it was necessary, if they could spare it, tried to refuse.

“Oh, no, it’s much better now, I don-”

Healer Magtie pointed a finger in Hermione’s direction. 

“You will take these because I told you to, young lady.” Hermione wanted to protest that she wasn’t old enough to call Hermione ‘young lady’, but she was quieted by the - quite frightening, in a motherly kind of way - tone of her Healer’s voice. “They will help you, and you need that help, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hermione didn’t notice the small smile on her face.

__________

“Knock, knock,” Ginny called quietly into the room. 

“Do all you Weasley’s enter a room like that?” Hermione laughed. The lights were still dimmed, as her head was throbbing again, and she appreciated Ginny’s consideration. Of course, she’d gone through something similar with Bill. 

“Charlie and Ron don’t,” Ginny said as she stepped in. “That gene must have missed them.”

Both girls giggled at their expense. Ginny sat down in the chair Remus had abandoned the day before and placed folded hands on Hermione’s bed, leaning forward. Her eyes were red, and she was forcing a smile onto her face, but Hermione could tell she was hurting.

“C’mere,” she murmured.

Immediately, tears started to form on Ginny’s dark lashes, and the usually high spirited girl looked to her now clenched hands. 

“I’m meant to make you feel better,” Ginny tried to say lightly. “Not the other way around.”

“Oh, Gin,” Hermione sighed. “I’m okay. I will live.” Hermione wondered briefly if that was an insensitive comment. “You just lost a brother. Your parents lost a son. It’s okay to be sad around me. I understand.”

Ginny glanced up, saw Hermione’s sincerity (not that she doubted it, but it was a nice reassurance), and sniffed. The war weary girl stood from her chair, shoulders bowed, and crawled gently onto the bed, mindful of Hermione’s injuries. She lay next to her friend, both their heads on the same pillow and stared at the ceiling together, fingers entwined.   
Hermione knew Ginny’s tears were probably soaking into her hairline, but neither of them were bothered. 

“So,” Ginny started after a quiet, grief filled moment. “How’s hospital life?”

Hermione huffed a breath. 

“They keep trying to give me so much food. It just makes me feel sick - I can’t eat all that after eating mushrooms for almost a year.”

Hermione felt Ginny nod next to her. 

“Harry and Ron have been having the same problem. Mum is beyond worried about them. Ron actually threw up last night after trying to eat a third helping of peach cobbler.”

Hermione groaned, hand coming up to cover her mouth. Just the idea of eating three servings of peach cobbler was nauseating and appealing at the same time. 

“Oops,” Ginny giggled. “Maybe no more talk of food. I don’t think you could be more green if you saw Ron pick his nose.”

Hermione mimed gagging, and both girls laughed.

__________

Bill came in a few minutes after Ginny left, having come together (Ginny had told Hermione that her parents weren’t comfortable letting her go out by herself, to the younger girl’s annoyance). Bill stayed strictly to lighthearted topics, and changed the subject back to Hermione when she asked how he was.

Hermione watched as Bill closed the door with a soft snick and let out a heavy sigh. She’d been doing that a lot lately.

Bill had told her that his parents were coming with Charlie around lunch time, and were planning on bringing food for her that wasn’t prepared in a hospital. The house elves that worked at St Mungo’s had to be bordering on insanity with the amount of work they had to do. 

Hermione napped on and off, sheerly out of boredom. She had absolutely nothing to do accept “sit there and heal”, so sleeping seemed the better alternative to staring at the door and waiting for her pseudo parents to come. She should have asked Bill to request a book (or a few) for her to read from Mrs. Weasley. 

As it turned out, she didn’t need to, because when Charlie made his way into the room, parents following, he was levitating a stack of about six books.

“Tada!”

Hermione laughed tiredly. She’d overslept, she was sure, and now she felt groggy. 

“That’d otta keep you occupied for a couple days, huh? Harry and Ron couldn’t decide what you might want, so we brought a few different genres.”

“Thank you, you guys! I’ve been taking boredom naps all day today. This will be perfect.” She gestured to her bedside table for Charlie to set down the books. 

Mrs. Weasley set a shrunken basket down on the foot of the bed and enlarged it, revealing a delicious smelling pot pie.

Hermione was only able to choke down one piece, plus the leafy salad that her sensitive stomach seemed to prefer, before she needed to stop. Amongst the talk of Charlie’s dragons, Mr. Weasley’s work at the Ministry, and Mrs. Weasley’s abundance of garden gnomes, the topic never strayed past anything slightly uncomfortable. 

Hermione was a little disheartened that everyone was being so cautious around her, but at the same time appreciated their consideration. 

“Oh, Remus wanted to let you know that he won’t be able to stop by today - poor Teddy has a fever.” 

A shock of maternal concern swept through the younger woman. 

“But he is available for owls at any time, dear,” Mrs. Weasley consoled.

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled. “I hope Teddy feels better soon.”

Hermione knew she wouldn’t be owling Remus - with a sick baby on his hands, he didn’t need the added distraction of her problems. 

“Me, too, dear,” Mrs. Weasley agreed. “We’ll stop by to see you tomorrow, alright?”

Hermione nodded, smiling until the matriarch left the room after her husband and son.

She had seen the force behind the smiles and was blown away that the Weasley’s were even taking the time and effort to come see her, even with all the...funeral...planning they would have to do. 

Hermione was sure she would be receiving many invitations, and the thought saddened her beyond words.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tada! It's almost the end of Hermione's hospital stay! And (!) I firgured out how to work the italics! _Yay!_

Hermione remembered the exact moment she witnessed the light in Draco Malfoy’s eyes go out. She wasn’t quite sure why the memory stuck with her, as seemingly inconsequential is was. 

She remembered walking out of the hospital wing at the end of fifth year, with the support of her two best friends by her sides, and stumbling across Draco exiting the Headmasters office. He had been looking down at his shoes, shoulders slumped - something entirely unheard of in a Malfoy - and had looked up, seen Harry, and the light had just...died. 

Like there was no spark, no fight left in him. Oh, she knew there was, had witnessed it on more than one occasion after. But there was nothing like watching the brightness in a person be blown out like a candle. 

But, sometimes, when she was feeling optimistic, Hermione liked to think that, like a candle, that light could be reignited by a spark of hope. 

______

“Hey, Hermione,” Remus said softly as he stepped into the darkened room. 

Apparently, her brain was changing and it was making her head hurt like none other.

Fun.

“Hey, Remus,” she whispered. 

“I left Teddy with Andromeda today,” he confirmed when Hermione heard no happy baby noises. “He’s happy to spend some time with Grandma.”

Hermione smiled slowly, eyes still closed.

“Thanks for coming to see me. I’m sorry Teddy couldn’t come.”

“No need. Trust me, he is being spoiled rotten right about now.”

“I’m sure,” Hermione agreed. “That’s what grandmother’s do, right?”

“Exactly,” Remus replied, smile in his voice.

A moment of silence passed, in which Hermione was tempted to open her eyes.

“How are you, Hermione? Really?” Remus asked.

That was a loaded question.

“I don’t know…” she started. “I guess my body is accepting the change quickly, which is both good and bad.”

She heard Remus wince in shared pain.

“I keep having dreams that I am running in a forest, and the air is all crisp and fresh, like it’s only just rained. I look down and see I’m a wolf, and I’m always startled to see paws instead of feet like I expect, no matter how many times I have the same dream. And I’m sick of being in this bed,” she ended, obviously frustrated.

Remus chuckled. An annoyed growl slid out of Hermione throat before she knew what was happening. Her eyes finally flew open, and her hand came flying up to cover her mouth, cheeks flushing.

Remus stopped laughing, but was still smiling with a bright twinkle in his eyes. 

“I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear. I was laughing because you reminded me of Harry when Molly made him go to bed last night. He grumbled just like you about being sick of being in bed, even though he has yet to sleep in one since he got to the Burrow.”

Hermione frowned in concern, her blush receding.

“Don’t worry,” Remus said, seeing it. “Bill snuck some Dreamless Sleep in his hot chocolate.”

Hermione’s lips quirked. “I bet Harry woke up ready to strangle him.”

“Oh, he did,” Remus said simply. “It was too bad Bill had already left for the day.”

Hermione giggled.

“I brought a couple more books,” announced Remus, reaching into his pocket to get them.

“Oh!” Hermione said excitedly. “I’m so glad! I only have one left from the stack Harry and Ron sent with the Weasley’s yesterday. I thought Harry and Ron would have come to see me themselves, but I guess they were busy.”

Hermione picked at a loose thread on her blanket.

“Oh, they tried to come,” Remus comforted. “I’m afraid Molly tried to stuff them with too much lunch and they spent the afternoon sick.”

Hermione grimaced. 

“I can imagine. I hope they feel better.”

“They were both happily munching on their meals when I left, so I assume they are recovered,” he said dramatically.

Hermione shifted as the itchy, achy feeling shifted along her spine. 

“They’ll be here later, though, won’t they?” she asked, anxious to see her friends. She wondered briefly if they were ignoring her. 

“Yes, I heard them talking about sneaking out if Molly didn’t let them out before lunch.”

Hermione giggled, relieved. “That sounds like them.” 

She remembered them sneaking in to see her in the hospital wing loads of times. 

Hermione shifted again and watched Remus frown.

“When was the last time you had your pain potion?” he asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t that long ago. I’m just restless,” she lied. “Can’t wait to leave,” she sighed. That much was true. Though she wasn’t looking forward to what came after. 

“I bet,” Remus consolled. “You’ll be free to move around soon.”

“Am I supposed to be feeling more restless than usual?” she asked curiously. 

“Maybe,” Remus said, considering. “It should get much worse towards the full moon.” 

Hermione groaned.

“I’m sure the majority of your current restlessness is from being cooped up in a hospital bed.”

“Yes, you’re probably right. I just wish I could walk, even around the room.”

“You will soon, I promise. The process should end rather quickly.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Hermione said, annoyed. “I just want to leave.”

She knew she was whining, but she couldn’t help it. Her head hurt, her emotions were all over the place, and she hurt - everywhere. Literally. 

Hermione forced herself to sit up further, pushing through the horrible burn and dizziness. Remus reached out, but she waved his hands away.

“It’s fine,” she huffed. “It doesn’t hurt that badly anymore.” Comparatively, anyway.

“Mm-hmm,” Remus hummed. 

Hermione slumped, head in hands. Even the weight of her own head made both arms ache. Utterly ridiculous.

“I’m sorry, Remus. You came here to see me, and all I do is complain at you,” she apologized.

“You forget, I know how you feel,” Remus reminded her. “The last thing you are going to do is drive me away with your valid complaints, Hermione.”

Hermione looked over at him. 

“Thanks,” she said thickly. She groaned and pushed the heel of her palms into her eyes. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were burning like she just might. 

“You know what you need?” Remus asked suddenly.

“What?” 

“A good, old fashioned muggle movie player,” he said, sounding slightly smug.

“How do you know about those?” she asked incredulously, looking up.

“Half-blood,” he reminded her. “My mother loved movies.”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he wiped it away too quickly for her to analyze. 

“That’s brilliant!” she said. “I’m not sure it would work here though.”

“I’m sure Arthur could find one for you,” Remus said, eyeing her.

Hermione’s mouth dropped open in an ‘O’. 

“Oh,” she said, a tired but excited smile creeping across her face. _“Oh.”_

Remus smirked. “Don’t worry. We can come up with something.”

In that moment, Hermione understood what drew James Potter and Sirius Black to Remus. Though he looked like the last person to cause mayhem, behind his eyes and in his smirk lay the potential to be the most mischievous of them all.

Hermione giggled.


End file.
